Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required NOTE: I don't find the time, neither do I have much inclination, to write a great deal these days. However, the occasional new piece gets composed, and this is one. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone - Ruben, Raul, Andrew, Elaine, Patricia, Carol, Adeleke, Krista, Trudi, Kristin, Bill, Shishir, Sami, James, Trudi and many, many others - who have been so kind, supportive and appreciative both now and in the past. You are stars. I am in your debt. I know it's not the happiest piece, but it's what I have at the moment. T. Last Chance Saloon: The deadbeat shuffle from Boardwalk to Boot Hill Implores the synapse circuit of a short walk to the kill, With one foot out of line one soon is gone In Winter rains that fell all Summer long; Never once did Zeus advise to pack a bag, Only suck it up and tread the old main drag. When first she shed her morals and her dress, The channel burn adored her more than less, Post-coital walks, romancing in the sun Beat a path to living in the shadow of the gun; As expectation always lets one down, Rends the heart in two by softly skipping town. From the stained-glass of an alcoholic haze Wherein kaleidoscopic migraines snap and blaze, The rusty barrelled gun scrapes at the head, All the chambers full of coals and glowing red; She resurfaces like some immortal doll, And each bullet tastes of paracetamol. So to raise the weary glass to mouth again, To curse and toast her godforsaken name, To down the medicine and down some more And ride the bona-fide revolving bat-swing door; Swear by saints alive to never leave this room, No more chances left to chance in this last chance saloon.
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